In Lovers' worlds it's always raining
by VoyeurOfUtterDestruction
Summary: Quickly written fic because I'm gloomy and trapped in an ugly world.Robert Frobisher and Rufus Sixsmith from the movie 'Cloud Atlas',I love them so damn much I always cry when I think of their story. No beta so mistakes.I wrote it in the tube in like 20 minutes,dont expect anything great. M just to be safe.
1. Not even the rain has such small hands

Hearts are outragingly fragile organs.  
Complicated and delicate like clockwork,they need swift,trained fingers to handle them or else they break and all thats left behind is red vision and bruised skin.

* * *

_I cling to you Sixsmith like the muses cling to Love. _  
_Kissing his lips hungrily and begging for his touch. Erato the muse who dedicated herself to erotic poetry exposes her soft,milky thighs to him with fever. Like her Sixsmith, I shiver with the need to feel your fingers on my hips and your lips against my burning skin. Like the sisters Kalliope, Melpomene and Terpsikhore who lay at his feet with their rosy breasts exposed like well paid whores..., just like that Sixsmith,I quiver while touching myself and thinking of you, thinking of your smile and your talented fingers. Look at me Sixsmith,just another well paid whore... Why do you love me? _  
_{supposing of course that you do love me}_  
_Why don't you go find yourself a proper lover,someone who will not run away with a stolen kiss and leave you naked in a hotel room in the middle of the morning._  
_{I repeat though, This was not the way I had planned this to happen,I am so sorry.}_  
_Music is my only escape now, the notes the only lovers in my bed._  
_I wonder why they still come though, my starved,sleep deprived body and my messed up mind should not be much of an appeal even for them._  
_I will be gone soon Sixsmith..._  
_I can feel it thumping in my veins, sliding in my blood._  
_I will leave the Sextet behind and then I will go... I'll disappear in the clouds like the last traces of cold English rain._

_Yours,_  
_Robert Frobisher_

* * *

The devastation of the man who found his lover bleeding in a bath tub with a pistol in his hand and a bullet through the roof of his mouth was huge and black and ugly.  
Ugly like a bird-like beast that rotted away alive while still devouring Rufus Sixsmith till he was spent and torn and destroyed...  
Ugly like the blood dripping across the smooth surface of the white tub and staining Frobisher's shirt.  
Ugly like the cruel,unloving world every broken hearted person is trapped inside...


	2. I will mend you if you're broken

Memories always stay the same. Once something has happened you cannot forget it,you cannot erase it.  
Memories are harmful. They can inflict more pain than a thousand needles... they can break a man and leave him crying over old yellow paper held tightly between his trembling fists.

* * *

_Sixsmith,  
I hope the events of last night will not change your opinion of me.  
I know I have doubted you and have betrayed your trust but you know I love you. Damn me Sixsmith you know I do! You must know it!  
I apologize if I disturbed you with my irrational behavior. I could see you trying to understand but losing yourself. I always thought my eyes seemed more alive when I cry... yesterday was the final proof.  
You are my sanctuary Sixsmith,the one person I know will be there for me...always.  
I can still feel your hands on my ribs and you cannot believe the desire that has taken over me even at the simple thought of you being here with me.  
It had been ages since someone had just held me in their arms while I was naked,people usually...it is of no importance.  
I could lose myself forever in one of your smiles,I could fade away while shaking in your arms,it scares me.  
How many goodbyes can fit in a lifetime Sixsmith?  
Aren't you tired of being left alone in a cold bed? Why do you still hold me when I break? Why do you put me together?  
I never say goodbye and you always know where I went...  
The favor will be repayed I promise. I wrote a piece for you,maybe I'll play it for you someday.  
I hope you don't get too attached to me Sixsmith,I am more dangerous than you think._

Yours,  
R.F.

* * *

Memories of that one night have faded away and the man still tries to keep them between the yellow pages.  
He tries to keep the image of the naked thin,white body shaking in his arms always playing behind his eyelids. He tries because that frail porcelain boy was indeed dangerous. He tries because not even the tinniest momments are allowed to fade away. He tries because he still hasn't realised the game is over and the white king has fallen to never rise again.

* * *

Authors note: I know that Robert is totally oc and that this story is horrid but I need a way to distract myself or I'll fall apart.


	3. There's a war inside my head

The word cranium derives from the greek word κρανίο. A cranium, commonly known as a skull, is the bony structure inside ones head that supports facial structures and forms the cavity of the brain. If a bullet shoots straight from the mouth cavity pointing at the roof of the mouth then said bullet will pass through to the brain cavity causing lethal damage to the brain. The victim dies within seconds if not instantly.

* * *

_Sixsmith,  
'Death shall die' someone said to me. What incompetent rubbish!  
Death,stupidity and uncertainty are the 3 certain things in this world.  
Many young men have felt the frozen hands of death lay on their shoulders. Many men have tried to bribe him with silver and gold.  
I will not try to trick death Sixsmith. I will face him with a straight face.  
People pontificate, 'Suicide is a cowards act.' couldn't be further from the truth...  
I am such a selfish brat... But you just put up with me. You groan and shake your head but you smile too which is why I love you.  
I will love you till the very end Sixsmith.  
Till the last momment I will think of you. _

_We do not stay dead for long.  
I will find you again Sixsmith, before you realize you closed your eyes and dreamt._

Yours,  
Robert Frobisher.

* * *

__And while the victim is unchained by his troubles and pains the lover he has left behind feels that bullet tear through his body time and again. He says to himself he'll stay clean tonight, he says he won't cry no more. And it's all such a pretence, such a painful rewinding lie. And it keeps playing all night long like the vinyl on the record player...round and round and round... never stopping to let him catch his breath.

* * *

AN: I dunno what I've done here...kind of a different version of the final letter?  
Also, as a bit of a game I've scattered quite some refrences in there from the book,the movie and from random other stuff like songs. Try to find some, will you?


	4. With your suitcase in your hand

Loving someone means loving every bit of them.  
Loving their eyes,their laugh ,the way they smell after they come out of the bath and the way they smell late at night... Loving them means accepting every flaw and every quirk. Loving them means a lot of things all more complicated than the other and all together more complicated than every composition written down on any pentagram...

* * *

_Sixsmith,_  
_Peculiar as it may seem,I believe that you make my heart a better place..._  
_The waistcoat you lent me has started to smell more like smoke,sweat and ink instead of its usual smell of... well,you. _  
_I'll take it as a sign that I need to visit you as soon as possible. I need to put every second in good use. _  
_I cannot waste whatever little time is left of me. And time without you is wasted..._  
_I do believe it has its benefits though,isolation... I composed 2 full pieces while delirius. Truly amazing!_  
_I missed you all this time, even your letters smell like you did you know? _  
_Thats why sometimes I keep one near my pillow at night._  
_I hope that instead of a yellow paper it will soon be your blond head lying on the pillow next to mine. {with the rest of your body of course! I do think I can put that in great use.}_  
_I can't get out of my room without getting dizzy... walking around makes me sick... _  
_Do you think I'll die? It would be quite a twist of events..._

_Yours,_  
_R.F._

* * *

__And even if Robert dies soon Rufus will always keep the letters near his pillow at night. Will always smell the composer in every line and every fold. Because once you've settled into someones heart and they've settled in yours,you never really leave. You always linger for another minute with your suitcase in your hand, afraid to take that step that will lead you out in the cold and the rain.


	5. The 1st man he truly loved

Sometimes he would withdraw to himself completely and in those few fleeting moments you could see all the sadness lurking behind his gentle face. You could also see something else... you could see melancholy,bleak and grey like cold sheets,twisted uncomfortably the morning after his 1st night with the man he had truly,unconditionally loved.

* * *

_Dear Robert,  
I received your letter with a 3 day delay due to unspecified reasons.  
I really missed you more even if it was just a goddamn letter.  
When you don't write to me I feel a sickness creeping up my heart,I can't hear you talk about death anymore, I will try to come to you as soon as possible. I promise.  
I miss your warmth and your slim figure. I miss our late night conversations...  
Why must you leave? Why must you always, always leave?  
__Cambridge is as boring as it ever was. It gets colder and colder and I feel lonely...  
Tell me you love me Robert. Please...please.  
Tell me you love me and do not talk about death anymore..._

Yours,  
Rufus Sixsmith.

* * *

Sometimes those feelings bring pearly tears to his eyes and he blinks them away and he smiles so as not to worry anyone.  
He goes to his room and sits on his bed and cries over piles and piles of wrinkled yellow paper and he plays a record of orchestra music over and over again.  
In those hours, when the record plays subtly and the rustle of papers is barely evident in the room he swears he sees the slim figure lying gracefully beside him with his pale thin arms open waiting to take them in their secluded shelter.

* * *

AN: This might or might not be the last chapter of this series. Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed.


End file.
